Piece of My Heart
by love and peace
Summary: loved the loveliness of Lupin and Tonks so decided to do a fic about them and Lupin's werewolf underground workings.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter one

Tonks

I was nineteen before I saw an actual werewolf. I was in my second year training to be an auror and I'd done well enough to get an internship. It was the first time I'd ever been in head quarters for more than a few hours. I'd been excited about it for weeks, this chance to intern, be around real aurors, helping them catch serial killers, rapists, evil people in general, I wasn't fussed who, just so long as it was exciting.

So of course nothing remotely interesting happened for two weeks. Tonks law: nothing interesting ever happens when I'm expecting (or hoping for) it.

I was pushing the coffee cart between the cubicles, trying to pretend I was a very important auror in manner of Madeye Moody (though, of course, a far more attractive girl version) stealthily stalking hardened evildoers. I found it helpful when doing demeaning tasks, which basically constituted all the tasks I'd done since my "internship" began.

I was pushing the cart along the back cubicles, near the Improper use of Muggle Artifacts Office when she came bursting in, shrieking blue murder and looking like ten kinds of hell.

At first I didn't know she was a werewolf, I thought she was a distraught crack whore, actually. She was dead white, except for her cheeks, which were streaked with black. There were these horrible dark circles around her eyes and her hair was everywhere. She was wearing this itsy little skirt and a tank top and only one shoe.

"Where is she!" she screamed. "Where is she? WHERE IS SHE!"

A second later this bloke came tearing after her, he looked just as bad, like he'd been bleached and left under the bed for a year. He had this ratty Mohawk and he wasn't wearing a shirt, just black jeans and honking great combat boots. He looked like he'd kill you soon as look at you.

The two of them came rampaging down the isle at me, the girl screaming and crying and the bloke snarling and casting about, taking great breaths through his nose. When the girl finally reached me she grabbed my shoulders and shook me. She smelled horrible, like sweat and sick. This close I could see that the black streaks were mascara and eyeliner (she was wearing quite a lot) and that her lipstick had smudged across her chin.

"Where is she, where is she? They took her!" she started shaking me like mad. "Where'd they bloody take her!"

"I don't—"

"STUPIFY!"

—and she just crumpled to the ground next to the bloke. Kingsley Shacklebolt and about ten odd other aurors had were standing up with their wands pointed at the two of them. I knelt down and stared. I couldn't help it. I'd never seen anyone so crazed before. Lying still I could see how young they were. The boy, he looked about my age, but the girl couldn't have been older than fourteen.

One of them, a wiry bloke with very curly black hair named Cummings (unfortunate) came striding forward and knelt down beside me.

"Who…..?" I managed.

He scrutinized them for a moment, then said "Werewolves."

"Werewolves! But how do you know?"

He pointed to the clumsily done tattoos on their right wrists. They looked like lopsided stick figures of horses. "The tattoos mark them as part of a pack."

"What were they doing here?"

"Looking for Dolores Umbridge I'd expect. She's just passed some bills that'll have made her very unpopular with the werewolf community. Can't say I blame her for putting them through though. Bloody savages. Wouldn't want them working around my friends."

"What'll happen to them now?" I asked, staring down at them.

"Well nothing, really. They haven't committed any crimes, see. Coming into the ministry's not exactly illegal, though I'm blowed if I know how they managed it. We'll just take them out and leave them by the visitor's entrance. They'll wake up and go home, I expect. And I suppose we should tighten security for a few months. Don't want anymore getting in."

"Tonks will you take them out? Thanks."

I could feel myself bristling. I mean, it was better than passing out coffee, but levitating smelly, unconscious people out of the office was not my idea of fun.

Getting them downstairs was surprisingly easy. The elevator was empty all the way down to the atrium and there were only a few people there, scurrying about, too busy to pay much attention.

I'd almost reached the visitors exit when someone spoke to me.

"Why Nymphadora, it is lovely to see you!" I span round, staring. It had been a while since I'd heard that voice.

Albus Dumbledore stood behind me, smiling gently. Standing next him was a rather ill looking man. He couldn't have been more than thirty three, but his hair was already streaked with gray and he looked like he needed a long nap.

"Wotcher, Dumbledore," I said, and immediately wondered if I should have said 'hello' instead. Seamed more appropriate.

His eyes twinkled. "I hear you managed to get the internship? My congratulations. I see it's keeping you busy." He nodded toward the unconscious werewolves hovering in front of me.

"Er…..yes. They um…..they're werewolves. Cummings said they were after Dolores Umbridge," I said, privately wishing they'd managed to get to her.

Dumbledore raised his eyebrows. His companion twitched. "What a coincidence! We were just on our way to see Ms Umbridge now. Strange how fate moves, yes? It was lovely to see you, Nymphadora, but we must be going."

"Bye!" I called after them.

Getting the werewolves into the phone booth that would take us out of the ministry proved more difficult than I would have expected, as unconscious people are very floppy and not at all helpful in small spaces.

The moment we reached the surface there was a loud shriek and a woman launched herself at me. She clutched the girl to her chest and glared at me. Closer up I could see she was the same age as the other girl, thirteen or fourteen.

"What the fuck have you done to them?" she demanded. "Where's Ella?"

"They're only stunned," I said. "I can wake them up if you promise not to attack me."

"Stunned? What……fine then, I won't attack you. Just wake them up!"

"Evenerate!"

The girl and the boy sat up, the girl looked around, peered, inexplicably, at her hands, and then burst into tears. The man put his head in his hand and groaned. Their friend wrapped her arms around the sobbing girl.

"Oh Nelly. Nelly we'll get her back. I swear we will." She murmured.

But she was looking at the man. He met her eyes, and the look he gave her was so bleak and sad that I was sure that he wasn't at all confident that they'd be getting anyone back.

I was about to go when he called out to me.

"Oi! You! Pink hair!"

"What?" I asked.

"You work for Dolores Umbridge?"

I shook my head.

"But your mates do."

"I…..my boss does."

"Well have them tell her….." he stood painfully. "Have them ask her how it's keeping people safe, taking little babies away from their mothers. Just……just ask her that. 'Cause I'd really like to know. C'mon Meg, get her up and we'll go."

The girl named Meg helped Nelly up, keeping her arm tight round her shoulders. I watched them walk down the alley together, so thin and beaten and sad looking, and wondered how they could be dangerous.

A/N: Please, please review! Tell me if I should keep this going or scrap it. Be honest, I want to know.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N Thank you so so so so much to everyone who reviewed. It made me feel v. happy.

Chapter Two

Tonks

"I don't know why they're always going on about him being mad, and all," I said, glancing at the latest piece of waffle about Harry Potter having the intellect of a squash.

"They've got nothing else to talk about," said Mara, sipping her coffee daintily. She's always dainty, Mara. "Stupid really. He just wants attention, so he's pretending."

"Oh, I dunno," said Eric. "What d'you reckon Tonks, is he mad or not?"

"Not." I said. I felt safe saying it here. Eric, Mara, and I had gone to a little muggle coffee shop on Portabello road for our lunch break. As far as I knew most ministry wizards didn't even know it existed.

"But if he's not out of his tree then he's telling the truth about…..about You-Know-Who, isn't he?" said Tom.

"Oh don't be ridiculous," said Mara. "He just wants attention, is all."

I took a deep breath. "Well actually….actually I'm not really sure about all that either." If it had been anyone else but Mara and Eric I'd have kept shut, but I'd known them since forever.

"You think You-Know-Who's back?" said Mara.

"Well I don't think Harry Potter's trying to get attention, he's got enough already. Besides Dumbledore believes him, and when's he been wrong?"

"Well they say he's loosing his grip…."

"And that's tripe, isn't it? Dumbledore's not mad, and neither is Harry Potter." I said.

"Oh no he's Mad!" said Eric, in an unnecessarily loud voice. "Mad, mad, mad! Mad as a…..as a……as a gold fish!"

"What are you on about?" I asked.

"Completely potty. Round the twist. His brain has gone to the dogs. He is completely insane." He nudged me in the ribs and jerked his head toward the door.

It was Kingsely Shacklebolt, standing there, bold as brass, in line for coffee, in my safe, muggle coffee shop, overhearing my subversive conversation. Oh pig, pig, pig! I thought.

"Yes!" I bellowed, in a desperate attempt to undo any possible damage. "Yes I believe you're right, Eric he is dotty as a camel, that Harry Potter! He has no sense. Utterly barmy. Potty Potter. And Dumbledore's just as bad! Yup yup."

"Yars, yars a nut job if I ever saw one!" added Mara, for good measure. "Well must rush. Come along Eric, Tonks. "

"'Dotty as a camel' eh?" muttered Kingsley as we hurried past. "I'll be speaking to you later, Tonks."

So that was it. My life, as I knew it, was over. I'd worked so long to be an Auror, I was still putting up with stupid hazing because I was the youngest one in the department, and now I was going to be fired. Could I have been more stupid? Saying I believed Voldemort was back in public…..God! I deserved to be fired. Aurors were supposed to be subtle and discreet, not loud, opinion showing, morons.

Back in the Atrium I changed my hair from pink to straight and brown. I had a vague and idiotic idea that if I looked more inconspicuous (i.e. brown hair instead of pink) Rufus Scrimgeour wouldn't be able to spot me, and therefore to sack me. I could just imagine Kingsley Shacklebolt reporting to him:

"Nymphadora Tonks is disloyal and anti-ministry. Not only does she have a stupid first name, she is unfit to be an Auror because she lacks subtlety and the right opinions. Also she is clumsy and always spills her coffee and can never find anything. Fire her at once, we all hate her!"

Oh God, I'd be in disgrace. I'd have to go beg Eric to put in a word for me at Flourish and Blotts. All my friends would come in to buy books and they'd whisper to each other "Didn't she use to be an Auror?" "Yes but she was sacked for being a moron, poor dear."

Oh God, oh God.

I'd worked myself into such a frenzy by the time I reached my cubicle that it was all I could do to sit down and start shuffling through papers, pretending to work.

"Tonks!" it was Shacklebolt. OhGodohGodohGodohGod.

"Y-yes sir?" I turned around slowly, clutching a quill with both hands.

"Help me carry these files to my cubicle, would you?" he held out two heavy looking boxes. I could barely hold them for shaking. I had no thoughts, just a horrible buzzing behind my ears. What was I going to do?

"Changed your hair color I see?" he muttered as we headed down the rows.

"Mmmphg," was all I could manage.

When we reached his cubicle I dropped the boxes of files in shock. Blinking at me from three walls were pictures of Sirius Black. There was even one of him and my mother when they were young. He'd been her favorite cousin. It was something I didn't like to think about.

But of course, it made sense about the pictures. He was in charge of the search for Black, after all.

"Sit down, please," he said.

I sat on the edge of his desk and immediately knocked a large pile of parchment on to the floor.

"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! Oh….." I scrabbled on the floor, trying to gather the papers up. It just kept getting worse and worse.

"Never mind the papers, Tonks. We need to talk."

I could feel all the blood rushing out of my head. I stood up and swayed. This was it. This was really it. I was done for.

"I over heard you conversation with your friends today, about Harry Potter."

"Shamhumph," I said. I was going for 'which bit?' but of course I couldn't get it out.

"Don't worry. You're not going to get into trouble."

"I—I'm not? But why?"

"Surely you don't want to?" he grinned slightly.

"No! Of course not, but…..why aren't you telling anyone?"

He leaned toward me, his face deadly serious. "I take it you're too young to have heard of the Order of the Phoenix?"

It's amazing how quickly your life can change. One minute everything is crushingly boring and disappointing and then you do something amazingly stupid and it changes everything, and suddenly you're doing what you've always wanted to do. It was really happening, I'd be able to do something, to be part of something. This was why I became an Auror.

I floated through the rest of the day, I felt like my feet barely touched the ground I was so happy. I was going to do it. I was going to be part of this. And it was going to be amazing.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: sorry for the delay. It took me a while to write this. Not used to writing Lupin. Please review! (It makes me really happy).

Chapter Three

Lupin

The day after you transform the only thing you can summon the energy to do is sleep. I say 'summon the energy' because the alternative to sleeping is curling up and dying. Easier, I grant you, but much less rewarding in the long run.

The whole process is exhausting really. Normally you spend the week leading up to the full moon feeling 'fluey and exhausted. About midweek you get this weird feeling, like there are little bugs crawling across your skin. Then the day before the full moon the bugs burrow their way under your skin and crawl around some more. Yes I know, charming. Lovely feeling, bugs under your skin.

But the actual transformation…..well that makes the bugs and the 'flu seem like minor discomforts. The achy bones feeling when you get the 'flu becomes an 'oh-my-God-all-my-bones-have-broken-simultaneously' feeling and the little bugs come bursting through your skin and then proceed to chew on it. Also your stomach decides to expel everything you've eaten. Ever.

So it makes sense that after going through that a person deserves some sleep, right?

Not according to Sirius.

"Wake up."

"Bugger off," I felt as if someone had kicked me in the head with a steel toed boot.

"Wake up, Remus," he said.

"But why?" why? Why? Why?

"There's a meeting tonight, Dumbledore wants everyone there."

"There's no meeting scheduled," I said. "Why would there be a meeting?"

"There's a new member."

"Who?"

"Andromeda's daughter, Nymphadora," he said.

"But…..she's seven."

"She's twenty-one, idiot," he laughed. "God I forgot how stupid you get after the full moon. Tell me, can you remember how old you are?"

" 'Course I'm……" shit. I could not remember how old I was.

"Merlin! I knew it. Get up, you can figure it out later." He laughed again and tossed at towel at my head. "And take a shower, you smell terrible."

"Right, right," I mumbled, rolling out of bed and heading for the shower.

Fifteen minutes later I was at least better smelling. I made my way down to the kitchen, where Molly handed me a large mug of tea.

"Thought it might make you feel a bit better," she said. She looked worried, which made me feel guilty. I didn't want her worrying about me on top of all the other things she had to think about.

"Actually I'm not feeling so bad. Got a lot of sleep," I said. She gave me a 'you're lying' look, but only said, "Drink the tea anyway, I don't like your color."

I sat down next to Sirius who whispered, "She was all for letting you sleep you know, didn't think you'd be able to handle a meeting."

"There's a difference between not being able to and not wanting to," I said. He laughed.

"Drink your tea, I don't like your color."

"Oh shut it," I said and drank some tea, which was scalding, but did make me feel a little better.

There was a crash from the stairs and a girl with violently pink hair came tumbling into the kitchen, followed by Kingsley Shacklebolt, who helped her up, looking highly amused.

The girl shook out her robes, grinned at us, and said "Wotcher, all. I'm Tonks. I'm new."

"Alright Tonksie," said Bill.

"Alright," she said, plonking down next to him. "So what's all this Mara told me about a French girl?"

Bill tugged at his collar, "Erm….."

"What French girl, Bill?" said Mrs. Weasley.

"English lessons," said Bill, coloring slightly. "I've been giving her English lessons. Works at the bank and needs…..English……look we're supposed to be having a meeting!"

We talked about the usual things; schedules for guard duty, how Bill was coming with the goblins (hadn't made much impression yet), what Snape had found out (nothing we didn't already know), and how Hagrid was doing with the giants. This last issue was the only one really worth discussing because it had failed horribly and now we had to decide what to do about it.

"They're still in the mountains, trying to find the giants who're in hiding so they can convince them to join us. Hagrid says it looks okay, but that could change at any time and I think we need to start looking at another plan," finished Arthur.

"What other groups could we look at?" asked Hestia.

"Centaurs?" suggested Emmaline.

"The Centaurs will not involve themselves in this any further than they already have," said Dumbledore. "They do not believe in interfering with wizarding dilemmas."

"Bit stupid really, as they won't be left alone if You-Know-Who comes into power," muttered Tonks. She caught my eye grinned again and I couldn't help grinning back.

"Merepeople?" said Mundungus, but in a halfhearted.

"Oh yes, they'll be a great help," said Sirius.

There were a few more suggestions, none of which would get us anywhere. I knew I had to say it, even though I didn't want to. I should have said it sooner, only cowardice had held me back.

"Werewolves," I said. "There are a significant number of them living in and around the UK. We might be able to convince a few. It's a long shot, but….."

"But most of them aren't feeling very friendly toward wizards," said Tonks. "Would they even listen if they were approached by anyone but another werewolf?"

"Not likely," said Sirius. "Which is why it's such a good thing we've got you!" he slapped me on the back in a 'go get 'em' way that seemed a little inappropriate, but very much a Sirius thing to do.

"Are you a werewolf then?" said Tonks, peering at me interestedly. "That must be a bit of a drag."

I couldn't help laughing. "Yes it is, a bit. Useful now, though."

"Aren't feral werewolves terribly dangerous?" said Molly.

"Some," I said. "It depends on the pack. A lot of them subscribe to Greyback's philosophy, but there are a few neutral packs. Those are the one's we'll have the best chance with."

"But where can we find them?" said Bill.

"There're three neutral packs living in the old industrial park, near the Thames," supplied Tonks unexpectedly.

"How d'you know that?" asked Sirius.

"Albert Cummings is in charge of monitoring werewolf activity, he had me organize his files a few months back, and copy his notes into actual reports," she was scowling. "As if the great git couldn't do it himself. Anyway, I think you should have a crack at it, Remus. S'not far from here."

And so a plan was built, something scary, and a little thrilling. I'd made a conscious decision thus far in my life to avoid others like me. I knew enough about them to feel pity, from what I could gather they lived like scavengers, they were violent, many addicted to heroine, speed, opium, or cocaine. They prostituted themselves, worked as drug dealers and petty criminals. I'd never wanted to be part of that. I'd wanted something better for myself. And wouldn't anyone?

But now here I was, stepping off a cliff, straight into it. I was going to have to convince them they could trust someone like me, half in one world, half in another. And I was afraid. And I didn't know where to begin.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: woo! I was feeling industrious so I did two chapters. I'm not actually sure about them though, so please give me feed back. Please please please!

Chapter Four

Meg

I knew right away he wasn't one of us. For one thing he was old, there aren't many older than twenty-seven round here and he had to be late thirties, maybe even a young looking forty. His clothes were all wrong too. It's not like they were nice, they were just really straight. I tried to imagine Tom in a white t-shirt, even one with mouse holes in, and corduroy trousers, even faded ones, with his ratty Mohawk and lip rings on top and his evil steel toed boots at the bottom and almost laughed out loud.

This bloke wasn't particularly compelling, just tweedy, so I can't say what it was that made me stop Pete and Joe-Joe from killing him. They had him backed up against the wall of the pub and they were having a real go at him. I didn't understand it a first, I mean sure, he looked a bit of a prat, but Pete and Joe-Joe are usually pussy cats, and I couldn't see that being enough to set them off.

There was a pretty big crowd around them and I had to do a lot of pushing and shoving to get through it. I was at the very front before I realized why they were so upset; it was his smell, it was all wrong. He smelled like a werewolf sure, but he also smelled like wizard. And not like the smell you get when you've been in a strip club full of them or you've gone down on one or something, but like he'd been living with them for ages and their smell had sort of seeped into him. And there was this other thing around him too, this sort of thick, crackly, warm not-quite-smell that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. It was magic, he knew magic, knew a lot of magic. And he had a wand. And that was what had set them off. We don't like wands, they can do horrible things to you and there's no way of knowing what exactly these horrible things will be because the person doing it always uses some gibberish word to make it happen, which doesn't give you much clue.

The odd thing was, he wasn't using it. They were pummeling him, like beating the shit out of him, and he wasn't fighting back. He had a wand, I could smell it so clearly that I didn't need to see it to know it was there, but he hadn't drawn it. He could have turned us all into toads in a second, I reckon, but he hadn't and that was pretty odd. He didn't want to hurt us. He could have done, but he didn't want to. Something was up, something important.

Right, I thought. Time to pull rank.

I stepped right in front of him, put my hands on my hips, tried to make myself look taller than five foot two, and said "What the hell do you think you're doing, then?"

They stared at me, completely gobsmacked, Joe-Joe's fist was still hanging in the air, ready to thump him again, and Pete's mouth was hanging open, and I thought, it was worth doing this just to see their faces!

"What d'you mean?" sputtered Pete.

"What do you mean by injuring Tom's guest?" I demanded. I was trying to sound posh now, because posh people are scary.

"T-tom's guest?" said Pete, the blood draining from his face. "But-but he never said….."

"You expect Tom White to tell you every time he has someone round, do you?" There was a ripple of laughter.

"Why didn't he just come to your gaff then?" demanded Joe-Joe, who's a little brighter than dear old Pete.

"Tom did ask him round, you great lump. I expect he just got here early, and fancied a drink. Isn't that right?" I asked, turning to him. The man nodded, his face completely blank.

"But he's got magic, he has. He's not right!" said Joe-Joe.

"Maybe Tom has a reason for meeting with him. Had that crossed your mind?"

"I-I-I…"

"Look, just budge over, right? You've done enough damage as it is." I turned back to the guy and grabbed his elbow as the crowd parted like the red sea and guided him through it, saying loudly, "I hope you'll forgive them, sir, they're just gormless morons is all. Wouldn't have thumped you if they'd know how important you are!"

We were out of the pub round the corner before the man said anything. "Thank you for that."

"Nevermind," I said, drawing my gun and pointing it at his head. "Give us your wand."

Lupin

From the moment I walked into the pub I knew I was in trouble. I was the oldest one there. Everyone else was mid teens to early twenties and there I was, thirty six, but looking about eighty by comparison. My clothes were also wrong. They were all in bizarre, punky get ups with great metal loops sticking out of their eyebrows, lips, noses, ears, cheeks, and nipples. Their hair looked as if it had been cut by a mad, blind barber with dull scissors. They made Tonks, with her pink hair and patched trousers, look like a church lady.

There was also the smell. Werewolves, wizards, muggles, every species has a distinct scent. Werewolves have a very keen sense of smell, even when we aren't transformed, but we can turn it on and off. I mostly keep mine turned off, because smelling everything within a five mile radius is irritating. Thing is, when you're feeling frightened or defensive it turns itself on, like a reflex. I was feeling both frightened and defensive and as a result the smell of feral werewolf nearly knocked me flat the second I entered the warehouse district.

What I'd not taken into account was the fact that I'd smell very different from them. I had the distinct marks of living as a wizard, not only in my dress and manner, but in my smell. I smelt of magic, wizards and witches, as well as werewolf. This created a problem.

I picked a pub at random, but I was barely two steps in when two gigantic blokes, one with evil looking metal spikes sticking out of his head, came barging over to me, and slammed me against the wall. Soon a huge, jeering crowd had gathered to egg them on. I thought briefly about trying to get at my wand, I could have escaped pretty easily by stunning the lot of them, but that would have ruined everything. I'd have lost their trust completely and we'd have one more enemy to contend against. I'd just have to ride it out and see if I could escape some other way.

And then, just as I was on the edge of blacking out, it stopped.

"What the hell do you think you're doing, then?"

I opened my eyes. There was a girl in a ratty blue plaid shirt and a very short denim skirt standing in front of me with her hands on her hips, glaring up at the two monsters. Her curly brown hair seemed almost electrified, her whole body did. She looked as if she was about to launch herself at them and tear at them with her fingernails.

She began to lecture them, as if they were naughty children instead of grown men. I was slightly dazed, but the name Tom White sank in. Tom White, it sounded familiar. Then I had it. Tonks had nicked a copy of Cummings' files on werewolves for me. Tom White was the leader of a small, neutral pack.

"Look just budge over, all right? You've done enough damage as it is!" said the girl, grabbing my elbow and steering me out of the pub.

We were down the street and around the corner before I finally found my voice. "Thank you for that."

"Nevermind," she said, and suddenly a gun was pointed at my forehead. "Give us your wand."

I pulled it out of the waistband of my trousers and handed it to her, wondering if this night could get any stranger.

"And a fag," she said, taking the wand and tucking it away. "C'mon, don't be stingy, I can smell 'em on you."

I handed her my fags. She wrinkled her nose. "Newports? D'you know how bad these are for you? Glass shards all through 'em, not just in the filter." She put the gun back in her shirt and at the same time produced a bic, lit up, and tossed the pack back at me. "What's your name anyway?"

"Remus," I said.

She nodded. "I'm Meg. You're here to see Tom White, yeah?"

"Yes," I said. "How—how did you know?"

"Why else would a Domestic like you be here," she set off down the street, gesturing for me to follow.

"Why'd they let you take me out of there?" I asked after a moment.

She glanced at me, "You're joking."

"No."

"I'm Tom's bloody girlfriend, aren't I! Everyone listens to me."

We walked in silence until she stopped abruptly in front of an old factory. She unlocked the door and lead me up a dark stairway that smelled, oddly, of rot and incense. Four floors up she stopped and unlocked a door with a lopsided 14 stenciled on the front. A dull base line thumped from inside the flat. When Meg opened it a haze of smoke oozed into the hall.

Inside were about ten people, seven of them men, sitting on the sagging couch and in dilapidated armchairs. A girl with frizzy brown hair perched on the windowsill, smoking a bowl. She was only about seventeen. It was seeing that which made me look more closely at Meg, who couldn't have been older than seventeen herself. A year older than Harry.

"Stay here," she said, and walked over to an armchair, where she slid into the lap of a viscous looking man with a pierced lip and a brown Mohawk, which was wilting in places.

" 'Lo love," he said, kissing her.

" 'Lo love," she said, and nuzzled his neck. "There was some trouble round Sonny's earlier." She jerked her head at me. "Says he wants to talk to you."

"That so?" she slid off his lap and he swaggered over. He was about six feet tall and skinny, but the kind of skinny that's made up completely of ropy muscle and bone. I had to keep reminding myself that ten years ago he was about twelve and probably two feet tall, to keep myself from bolting.

"You smell strange," he said.

"I'm aware of that," I said. He snorted with laughter.

He chuckled. "Funny old man, you are. Meg take your wand?"

"Yes."

He nodded but didn't offer to give it back. "Everyone 'cept Max, Nelly, and Meg clear off. I've got a meeting, I think."

The others left without a word, filing past me, not even looking. Finally, when the only people left were Tom, Meg, the frizzy haired girl from the windowsill, and a anorexicly thin man with long, blond hair and sharp gray eyes, Tom walked back to his chair, motioning me to follow.

"You can sit on the sofa," he said, regarding me regally. The odd thing was that he did look commanding, even if he was sitting on an armchair that looked on the verge of collapse. He crossed his legs and I saw that he was wearing huge steel toed boots with (oddly) little hearts painted along the sides. "So what do you want? You're willing to get beat up and not zap everyone in the pub with your wand, you must really want something bad."

I took a deep breath. Saying what I was about to say could get me killed, but I had to risk it. Praying that I wasn't about to have my throat slit I said, "How aware are you of the current state of things in the wizarding world?"


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

Tonks

I found the gramophone while I was helping the Weasley kids and Sirius clean out the billiard room. It was sitting there in its box, dusty but still useable, next to a pile of old records of boring wizarding music from the stone age. I didn't care about the records once I'd leafed through them, but the gramophone I wanted to keep around. Sirius and I set it up in the drawing room and everyone who had some pitched in old records. Molly especially liked the idea.

"It'll make the house so much more cheerful to have a little music playing!" she said, putting a Selestina Warbeck record on. Everyone except Arthur, who she forcibly restrained, left the room rather quickly.

If it had been left up to Sirius and me the record would have been blasting the Ramones, the Sex Pistols, the New York Dolls, T-Rex, and the Weird Sisters all the time, but of course other people like music too. Even if their tastes are strange and inexplicable.

A few days after we found the gramophone I came over for dinner and, since I had guard duty tonight from one till five, I decided to stay till then and keep Sirius company. We sat in the drawing room, listening to all our favorite songs and reminiscing. Or rather, he reminisced and I listened.

At eleven fifty two he went to bed and left me all alone in the creepy drawing room, listening to a Led Zeppelin song with an equally creepy baseline. I took it off and searched through the stack for something quieter. Finally I came up with a battered Simon and Garfunkel Greatest Hits record. It wasn't really my style, more my mum's speed. When I was little she used to play "Sound of Silence" to me, and it always calmed me down. Guard duty was dull as dirt, but I always got a little jumpy right before I did it. Maybe this was what I needed right now.

I lay back on the couch and listened. It was so nice, being in the room with the dying fire, the crackly old music playing. I was half asleep when someone came into the room and scared me out of my wits.

"Oh!" he said. "Sorry, I didn't know anyone was in here."

I sat up so fast I knocked an empty glass off the table by the couch. It landed on the carpet, sending up a little cloud of dust but, thankfully, not breaking.

He was standing in the doorway, back lit by the low light in the hallway so I couldn't see his face. I recognized his voice though.

"Remus?"

"Sorry if I disturbed you. I just heard the record playing and….." he trailed off, looking around the room as if he were slightly lost.

"It's alright," I said, scooting over on the sofa. "Come in, I could use some company."

"Actually I should probably go to bed….."

"C'mon please! I have to be all alone here till one and I can either be awake and heebie-jeebied out by this room or asleep and late for guard duty."

He hesitated and I thought, oh God he hates me. I could just hear what he was thinking; Ew Tonks! Why would I want to hang around with her? She's probably retarded, always falling over like a big footed duck-woman.

"Well I wouldn't want you to be 'heebie-jeebied out'," he said, a trace of a smile in his voice. He sank down next to me and the faint light of the fire touched his face.

"Good God! What's happened to you?" I jumped of the sofa and knelt in front of him, trying to hold his chin as gently as I could while I inspected his face, which resembled a bowl of rotten fruit. His left eye was swollen shut and the cheekbone below it was badly bruised. His lower lip was also split and the blood had spattered on his t-shirt.

"It's not a big deal," he muttered, trying to turn his face away.

"Clearly you haven't looked in a mirror!" I turned his face from side to side, trying to see if there was anything I'd missed, checking that he still had both ears.

"I still have both ears," he said, grinning crookedly.

"Who did it?" I asked, touching his cheek bone lightly, checking it hadn't been shattered. He winced.

"Sorry."

"It's alright. Who d'you think did it?"

"The other werewolves?" I guessed, using my amazing deductive abilities. "But why?"

"I smell wrong."

I thought it was a joke until I saw his face. "You aren't serious? What…..but I can't smell anything."

"Werewolves have a keener sense of smell than most. I smell too much of magic."

"Magic has a smell?"

He nodded. "Well, it's more of a……I dunno, really. It's odd, like a smell but a taste too, and a feeling, like static electricity. It makes the hairs on your arms and the back of your neck stand up when you smell it. It bothers most werewolves. It'd bother me too, I reckon, if I wasn't so used to it."

I shook my head. "That's really bloody weird, Remus."

He laughed and then winced when the cut on his lip reopened and oozed blood down his chin.

"Let me fix that," I wiped the blood away and then tapped his face lightly with my wand. I've always been good at minor healing spells. The bruises faded and the swelling went down until he could open his eye again. His lip stitched itself back together.

"Cheers," he prodded his cheek. "You're good."

"Oh ta. Look I'm blushing," I fluttered my eyelashes and he laughed.

"Did you go to charm school, Tonks?"

"How on earth did you guess?" I climbed back on to the sofa. "So the werewolf thing didn't go so well?"

"Actually, it looks promising."

Perhaps he was the insane one. "Getting a thumping equals 'promising' does it?"

"Oh no. No they did that before I talked to them. I scared them, I reckon. It's a bit of an odd story, really." He looked at me thoughtfully for a moment.

"What?" I asked. Had I got something in my face? I swiped at my cheek involuntarily.

"Nothing," he said quickly.

"Tell me the story then," I said.

And so he did. And it was an odd story. In summary he was attacked the second he walked into their territory, saved from being beaten to death by a seventeen year old girl who turned out to be the girlfriend of Tom White. She got him a meeting with Tom, but only after she threatened him at gunpoint, demanding his wand and one of his fags ("You shouldn't smoke, you know," I said.) At his meeting with Tom White he told them what he wanted, fully expecting to be ripped to pieces at any moment, and instead Tom agreed to think about it and talk to him again in a month.

"But that's brilliant!" I said, and before I'd even had a chance to think about it I was hugging him. It started out as one of those stupid, pally, arms-around-the-neck hugs, and then changed, and suddenly I wasn't sure what kind of hug it was. It was something between 'oh what a lovely friend you are' and 'I luuuurve you!'. I was very aware of the song, "Mrs. Robinson", playing in the background, and at the same time how nice his arms felt around me, and also that I didn't think he smelt at all funny, but very nice. Oh God, I thought. You can't fancy Remus! You just can't.

"Erm….." I said when we stopped hugging (which happened later it should have in a pally hug and sooner than it should in an 'I fancy you' hug.)

"God bless you please Mrs. Robinson/ heaven holds a place for those who pray/ hey hey hey!" said Simon and Garfunkel.

"Yes," said Remus.

The clock chimed one.

"Well, I'm off," I stood up and promptly fell over.

Remus helped me up, "Are you alright?"

"Oh fine, fine," I said, airily. "Happens all the time, you know." Feeling like a complete clod I concentrated hard on the three Ds (which I still have to do, otherwise I'd splinch myself) and disappeared to four dull as dirt hours on guard duty, thinking that Simon and Garfunkel weren't so relaxing after all.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

Tonks

I was trying very hard not to think about the hug, but it kept popping into my head, giggling madly, waving its arms and bellowing "Look at me! Look at me Tonks! Look at meeeeeeeeeeee!". Oh it was horrible. Two weeks had gone by and instead of putting the whole thing out of my head I'd managed to develop a full blown crush on Remus. I couldn't get anything done. I'd list all the reasons why I absolutely couldn't fancy him; He was thirty-six and I was twenty-one, he was neat and I was not, he was calm and quiet while I was always squawking and doing loud, disruptive things to make people laugh. For all these reasons he would never fancy me, so why should I bother?

But then I'd remember how nice he smelled (in spite of what certain werewolves thought). He didn't wear cologne or anything, he just had this lovely smell that only guys have, which is difficult to describe but wholly a boy smell. Or I'd remember how I could feel the outlines of his ribs through his thin shirt. Or that he had the nicest eyes I'd ever seen, the sweetest, most melancholy smile. That he was whip smart but not cocky about it. That he told jokes with a completely dead pan face, like he didn't care if you got them, but then kind of glanced at you just to check you were laughing. And then I'd be lost all over again, and I'd have to start listing and relisting all the reasons it would never work all over again.

I was in the middle of one of these mental battles when the owl flew in the window of my flat, landed on the sofa beside me, and bit me on the index finger.

"No need to be so pushy," I said, untying the scroll from its leg and unrolling it. I nearly swallowed my tongue; it was from Remus. For a moment I considered not opening it. I had the slightly crazy thought that he had somehow found out how I felt, though I hadn't said anything to anyone, and that he was writing me a letter to tell me to get over it. Except he'd be terribly kind and apologetic about it, trying not to hurt my feelings. But then I thought, there's a war on, even if not many people know about it. This is about the Order, not you. Remus cannot read minds.

Still, I was a little nervous about opening it.

Tonks, (it said)

Harry's been expelled. I don't know why. Dumbledore's at the Ministry now. Meeting in an hour to discuss how to get him to headquarters w/o upsetting muggle family.

R.

Oh dear, I thought. That's not good at all.

An hour later I was at Grimauld place, sitting around the kitchen table with everyone else, trying to figure out how to get Harry from Surrey to London safely without incurring the wrath of his aunt and uncle, who sounded horrible.

"I think we can all agree he needs a guard," said Moody, who was in charge of the operation. "Any volunteers?"

A great deal of hands went up, including mine, Remus', and Sirius'.

"I'm afraid your coming is out of the question, Sirius," said Moody. "You're a bit conspicuous, see."

Siruis grumbled a little, but didn't argue. Not surprising, really, Moody being a rather terrifying old bloke.

"So how are we going to get him out of the house?" asked Hestia.

"We should do it at night. It would attract attention if a flock of wizards showed up on his doorstep in the middle of the day," said Remus.

"His aunt and uncle don't like wizards at all. They won't appreciate all of you showing up in their house, no matter what the time. Better get them out of the house somehow," said Sirius.

"How?" asked Moody.

"Steal their car?" suggested Mundungus, hopefully. Molly glared at him.

"Um, perhaps not," said Remus. He caught my eye and I couldn't stop myself smiling. Oh pig, I thought. I am working. I am in the work place. I must not be hormonal.

"What about a diversion? Make them leave because they want to," suggested Arthur.

"They'd want to leave if someone stole their car," muttered Dung. Sirius turned his snort of laughter into a rather pathetic cough/sneeze hybrid.

Suddenly I had a brain wave. "They're very tidy, aren't they? Almost obsessive?"

There was a general murmur of agreement.

"Well why don't we make them think they've won some sort of prize for neatness? I bet they'd really go for it," I said. "We could send them a letter saying they'd won, like, the All England Best Garden Gnome Display, and give them directions to an empty field or something. Then we could swoop in while they're gone and get Harry." I felt like a regular genius.

"How 'bout best gutters?" suggested Bill.

"Nicest shingles?" said Remus.

"Best doormat?" said Molly.

"Cleanest windows?" said Emmaline.

"Best kept lawn?" said Sirius.

"Yes, that'll do," said Moody. "Best Kept Suburban Lawn Competition. Can you make up and send an invitation, Tonks?"

"Absolutely," I said, feeling terribly efficient.

In the hall after the meeting I was accosted by the Weasley twins, who seemed to have decided that I was the one most likely to tell them what we talked about.

"Please Tonks! You're the youngest one in the Order, have pity! Tell us what's going on!"

"I can't," I said, trying not to laugh. "You're not in the Order."

"We're of age, we should be!"

"But you aren't. I'm sorry, guys," I said, trying to be firm with them. Truthfully I felt bad for them, they wanted so much to help. Also, using the fraise 'you're not in the Order' made me feel a bit too much like the Man.

"Tonks, can I have a word?" Remus' hand was on my elbow, his face was very close to mine. I hoped very much that I didn't have bad breath.

"Erm….yes. Yes a word." I stammered. Oh God, so slick.

"A private word," he said firmly to the twins. They stalked off, looking resentful.

"So, what did you want to talk to me about?" I said nonchalantly, praying that he knew nothing about Legimency.

"The werewolf situation. You know they're uncertain about this. Well a lot of that has to do with not trusting wizards. I think it might be a good idea for them to meet some decent people. You wouldn't mind coming with me tomorrow night to meet with Tom and Meg, would you?"

"Why me?" I asked.

He shrugged, "Lots of reasons, really. They mostly dislike wizards, witches they find less intimidating. Superficially, You're around the same age as the members of Tom's pack, and your clothes are right. Also you're, erm," he cleared his throat. "You're nice."

I laughed, "Alright then. I'll see you tomorrow. Come to my flat."

And then I floated away in a purple and pink cloud of joy. So it wasn't a date. So what? I'd still be spending an evening with him. Oh la la la la life was lovely.

By the next night, as we walked down a shady looking street, I felt less like I was floating in a pink and purple cloud and more like I was walking into a building with something dangerous in it. The air here was taut with hostility and fear, and we hadn't even entered the center of Tom's territory yet. I had fallen into the ground eating, silent (okay, almost silent in my case), walk that I learned in Auror training. I was clutching my wand, listening as hard as I could, and standing up as straight as I could, trying to look larger than I was.

We turned a corner and stepped into what looked like the Red Light District. Girls in short skirts and too much make up and delicate boys wearing mascara lounged in doorways and down alleys. Back beats throbbed from clubs with neon signs saying "Girls! Girls! Girls!". We stopped at the door of a club where a man was calling "Step inside and see the lovely ladies of Chez Annmarie! Each one an English rose! They grow on you!"

"Alright Max?" said Remus.

"Oi Remus! How are you?" said Max, brushing his shaggy blond hair out of his eyes. When he saw me he blinked in surprise. "Well blow me! You e'nt bringing a witch here, are you?"

"I was hoping not to go in, actually. Is Meg off work yet?" he said.

"Will be in a mo'," said Max, lighting a cigarette. He offered one to Remus, who took it. I had the urge to snatch it away, saying 'No lung cancer for you, mister!' but refrained because smokers hate it when you tell them they shouldn't smoke.

There was a final clashing of drums and a series of whoops and cat calls from inside the club. Max stuck his head through the door and hollered "OI! MEG! YOU'RE NEEDED!"

A moment later a short girl with curly brown hair dressed in a crocheted tube dress and high heeled espadrilles came out of the club, tossing her hair back as she walked. She moved like someone utterly confident in her good looks. I had a flash of foreboding. I rarely get along with girls like that, as I am not one of them.

"Alright Remus?" she said, smiling up at him through her eyelashes.

"Alright," he said. "Meg, this is Nymphadora Tonks."

"Just Tonks," I said.

She regarded me for a moment, "You look really familiar. Have we met?"

"Don't think so," I said. Meg shrugged unconcernedly and plucked the cigarette out of Max's mouth.

"You have a wand on you," she said, taking a pull.

I nodded.

"Well keep it put away," she said. "None of that 'curry dildo lamppost humjob' business."

I glanced at Remus, completely bewildered.

"No magic," he said, looking extremely amused.

"Ah."

"Tom's down Sonny's," said Meg, and began to walk down the street ahead of us.

On the next corner we were hailed by an eleven-year-old girl in almost clownish make up and spiky high heels.

"What's shakin' Meg?" she said, trying to make her squeaky little voice smoky sounding. I had the urge to wipe off that ridiculous make up and give her some clothes that covered her up.

"Hello Moxy," said Meg, laying a hand on her head. Moxy shrugged it off, looking irritated.

"Got a fag?" she asked.

Meg produced a cigarette and a lighter from inside her bra and handed them to Moxy, who lit up and tossed the lighter back. She must have noticed me staring because she raised her chin and blew a jet of smoke in my face. "What?" she said aggressively.

Meg shook her head and continued on down the street.

"See you tomorrow Meg, right?" called Moxy.

"She's out there every night," sighed Meg. "Flogging her lamb chops."

I glanced at Remus, who looked terribly sad. Without thinking I laid my hand on his arm. He gave me a tight little smile.

"Here we are," said Meg. We followed her into a small, crowded pub. Rationally I knew that all these people were feral werewolves, and therefore dangerous, but I still felt more comfortable than I had all evening. They looked like the sort of people I might see on any night out with Mara and Eric. They stared at us as we passed, and I remembered Remus telling me about them being able to tell a witch just by smell. I wasn't seeing much negative attitude though. A man with his hair in cherry red dreadlocks and size zero gages in his ears stepped between Remus and me and grinned without showing his teeth, which made him look clownish.

"You new here?" he asked, offering me a joint.

Remus slid between us and grabbed my wrist, "C'mon, Tonks."

"You're with him?" said Dreadlocks. "That granddad?"

"Excuse me?" said Remus, raising his eyebrows. Suddenly he looked dangerous. It was nothing obvious, a sort of subtle shift in the way he held himself, a tenseness in his face that wasn't there before. He looked alarming.

Dreadlocks looked a little surprised, but he recovered himself, "You heard me, granddad." He slid his arm around my waist. "You want some fun, stick with me, babe."

I pulled free, "Touch me again and I'll break your nose."

Dreadlocks laughed and then smiled again, this time showing his teeth. "Sure darlin'. You give it a shot. Granddad can help."

I honestly think we might have broken his nose, and a few other things, if Meg hadn't shown up. She had her hands on her hips and a look on her face reminiscent of Molly and Ginny Weasley. "You want me to tell Nelly what you're up to, Arn? She won't like you chatting up other girls," she said. Out of the corner of her mouth she muttered "Don't attack him. You'll fuck it all up!"

Arn blanched. "C'mon, Meggy! You wouldn't."

"I would. Now leave Tonks alone, she's here on business." Meg threaded her arm through mine. "Always saving someone's arse, aren't I?" she said. "Ah, here's Tom!"

Sitting at a corner table was a tall man with a wilted Mohawk and a frightening knife with a curved blade tucked into his belt. That was when I realized that I had seen Meg before. Three years ago, at the ministry. Tom was one of the werewolves who'd come bursting into Auror headquarters, demanding to see Umbridge. Meg was the one in the alley who'd demanded that I revive them.

"Pink Hair!" said Tom, jumping to his feet. "Well blow me, 's you again!"

Remus blinked, "Oh!"

"So I have seen you before," said Meg. "Geeze, you were the one who stunned Tom and Nelly. Nice Remus, bring along Ms. Stungun."

"I didn't stun them," I protested. "I just took them out of the building and revived them. I'd never have stunned you," I added, telling myself that technically this wasn't a lie, as when I was nineteen I would have frozen (as I did). Now though, I probably would have stunned them. It was one of the things you learned in training; something big and scary comes running at you, stun it.

"Oh 's alright," said Tom, taking a swig of lager. " 'F I'd been you I'd've stunned you I reckon, if I had a way of doing it."

"Tom," said Meg. "How much've you had to drink?"

"Well I'm a bit tiddly," he giggled and sat back down. Meg beamed fondly at him.

Remus and I sat down too. I was trying my hardest to avoid his eyes, but I couldn't. The second we looked at each other we burst out laughing. Hearing a six-foot mad man with a big knife in his belt say 'tiddly' was just too much.

"God Tom. 'Tiddly'?" said Meg, shaking her head.

Remus was trying very hard to stop laughing, you could see it. When he failed he tried to turn the laughter into a coughing fit, but that just made him sound as if he'd swallowed a bird whole, feathers and all, was gagging it back up. Meg snorted into Tom's lager, which she was taking a sip of, and sprayed it all over the table.

"Hey it was mine, Meggy!" said Tom, looking desolate. "You sprayed it everywhere!"

Meg started giggling hysterically, "Oh you're such a baby! And you're not tiddly, you're pissed."

"No," said Tom, plaintively, cuddling his empty beer mug to his chest. The sight of him doing that did us all in. Remus' forehead was resting against my shoulder and I was nearly crying with laughter. Meg was clutching her belly, still giggling like mad.

"No respect!" said Tom. "No bloody respect, I tell you!"

It was a great bonding moment.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

Lupin

"Always sleeping……used to find him conked out in the library or on the common room floor…….James thought he was narcoleptic." From somewhere very far away I could hear Sirius talking. His voice rising and falling like a badly tuned radio. "……then found out about the werewolf thing……once fell asleep in his breakfast." There was laughter. Her laughter. Not mocking, just laughing for the sake of it. Even half asleep I could picture her clearly; how she'd raise one hand to her forehead, so that her face was almost covered and then giggle helplessly, as if completely overcome by life's silliness. "We used to put make up on him, or write things across his forehead. Even that didn't wake him. Sometimes he'd walk around for hours without realizing what we'd done." Sirius' voice was even now. I was beginning to come clear. It always takes me a good quarter hour to really wake up.

"I think he's surfacing," Tonks said, laughter threatening in her voice. She always seemed just on the edge of laughing or smiling.

I was beginning to be aware of other things now; a record was playing, though I couldn't quite place what band. It sounded familiar. A window was open. A soft breeze was blowing through, lifting the hair that had flopped over my forehead. I needed to cut it. I was getting as bad as Sirius, with all this hair flopping in my eyes.

"He'll be awake in another five minutes or so," said Sirius.

What was playing? The part of my brain that is still sixteen hoped very much that it was Simon and Garfunkel.. I don't have any real affinity with their music, but they were playing the night Tonks hugged me, and my inner idiot thought that if they were playing she might do it again.

Ah, now I had it. "Children of the Revolution". T-Rex. Sirius' theme song during seventh year. Once in seventh year James and Sirius wrote 'I Love Blokes' across my forehead in grease pen while I was asleep. Not very original, but I walked around with it on my face all morning and all through History of Magic, wondering why everyone kept looking at me and giggling, before Lily took pity and told me.

James and Sirius were digging chewing gum out of their noses for a week after that one.

Kreacher wandered into the room, muttering creakily "Half-breeds, blood traitors, oh my poor, poor mistress….." I heard Sirius rise and throw him from the room. As he walked past the couch on his way to his chair I tried to say 'You haven't written anything horrible on my head, have you?' but what came out was "Yuh swimdhig kimamummiduh?".

"Try that again, mate," said Sirus, trying very hard to contain himself and failing. I could hear him chuckling.

"Said y'haven't written an'thing 'orrible on myface?" I managed, trying to open my eyes. The room was blurry and too bright. I shut them again.

"Would've done, only Tonks wouldn't let me," he said sulkily.

"Thank you verymuch, T'nks," I croaked, sitting up but keeping my eyes closed. "Truly grateful." I shook my head a couple of times to clear it and finally managed to get my eyes to stay open. Sirius was sitting in an armchair with his feet propped up on the arm of the couch. Tonks was leaning against the windowsill. Her hair was blond and curly today.

"Hello," she said. "Glad you could join us."

"I haven' completely," I said, trying not to think about just how nice she looked. "What time is it anyway?"

"Nine," said Sirus. "At night, just in case you were wondering."

The sad thing was, I was wondering.

"You missed dinner," he said.

"Oh," I said, realizing that I was hungry, but unable to muster much emotion about it.

"Yes, looks like you won't be having anything 'till breakfast. Shame you're so lazy," Sirius beamed innocently at me.

"Oh stuff it, Sirius. Remus, Molly made you a sandwich," said Tonks, rolling her eyes. By 'sandwich' I knew she meant sandwiches. Molly only makes food in the plural.

"I could do with a sandwich," said Sirius.

"You just ate!" said Tonks, looking bewildered.

"I ate two hours ago," said Sirius, and marched off to the kitchen.

"My God, if he wasn't so skinny the man would be morbidly obese," Tonks slid off the windowsill and began to rove around the room. She wasn't wearing a bra under her t-shirt. 'My God', indeed.

"D'you know where Molly is?" I asked. "I want to tell her I'm sorry I missed dinner."

"Oh don't bother. You didn't miss much. Harry's trial's tomorrow and the poor kid's really worried. And Sirius wanted to go, but Dumbledor said no, so the whole thing was pretty tense."

I shook my head. "It's not fair on Sirius, being stuck here, feeling useless. I'd go mad."

"Yeah, but what can he do? Can't really stroll down the street can he?"

"He could've come with us to get Harry. We did it at night. No one would've noticed."

She smiled over her shoulder at me, "And they say you're the responsible one. Oi, what's this then?" She bent down, pulled a leather photo album from under Sirius' chair, and flipped it open. "Well fuck me!" She began to laugh in that bewildered way of hers.

"What?" I asked.

"It's you!" she rushed over and plonked down next to me, curling her legs under her and shoving the book half into my lap. "Look! It's a whole bunch of muggle photos of you, Sirius, and some other people. And you're like, really young!" I felt a slight pang, remembering the fourteen year age gap—which was less a gap really, and more a great, gaping hole—which was one of the many reasons why I could not allow myself to feel the way I was beginning to feel about Tonks.

"Where are you two, anyway?" she asked, and I looked down at the picture for the first time. It was Sirius, Marian, Kim, Jules, and me, smiling up at the camera from a long stone jetty with a rotten, wood lifeguard's chair at the end.

"Mineley," I said. "I got a job at a hotel there when I was eighteen. Sirius got one too, to keep me company. Those are some people who worked with us."

"Why are they muggle pictures?" she asked. She was leaning very close to me and I could smell her hair.

"They were muggles. It was a muggle hotel," I said, remembering.

"I'm sorry I called you old before," she suddenly blurted out, turning to face me. She looked terribly anxious, as if she'd committed a serious crime.

"It's alright," I said lightly. "I am old, you see."

"Not really," she said earnestly.

"Remus, you need to have a talk with Molly. She's convinced you're ill or something," Sirius strode into the room. "Told her you just sleep a lot, nothing to do with the moon or being sick, but she's convinced. What's that then?" he dropped a ham and cheese sandwich onto my arm as he passed. "Oh the pictures! Yeah I found them in the trunk of things the ministry sent to my mum after they locked me up. I was surprised she didn't have Kreacher burn it." He took a huge bight out of his sandwich and offered the last one to Tonks who took it absently and began leafing through the pictures.

"Who's she?" she asked, pointing to a picture of Marian and me on the beach. We were sitting by a bonfire, my arm around her, her head resting on my shoulder.

"That's Marian. Remus' old girlfriend," said Sirus.

"Oh," said Tonks, and squinted at the picture.

"Yeah weird, innit, someone fancying him?" said Sirius.

"Hmmm," said Tonks.

"Oi Tonks," Ginny poked her head round the door. "Fancy a game of Exploding Snap?"

"Alright, but only a short one. I've got to leave in half an hour," Tonks stood and handed her sandwich to Sirius. "You eat that. See you later, Remus."

"Where are you going in half an hour?" asked Ginny, her face the picture of innocent curiosity. You had to hand it to her, she was very determined.

"To None of Your Business Land."

"Tonks!"

" 'Night," she said again and disappeared after Ginny.

For a few minutes Sirius and I sat in silence, chewing. Then he scooted closer to me on the couch and threw his arm over my shoulders in a big-brotherly sort of way. The gesture said 'I'm going to give you some advice now, whether you want it or not.'

"So Remus, how long has it been, exactly, since you've shagged anyone?"

I nearly choked on my sandwich. "What?"

"Just a friendly question, mate."

"Well I'm not answering it."

"That long, eh?" he said smugly.

"Yes, well it's not as if you're winning any prizes for Most Shags Since Christmas," I snapped.

"True, true. But I've been in prison. Also everyone thinks I'm a mass murderer. What's your excuse?" he started in on Tonks' sandwich, still looking disgustingly smug.

"I've been busy," I said, cringing at how defensive I sounded. This was bringing back countless memories of school when he'd interrupt me while I was revising or writing an essay or, once, taking a shower, to tell me all about his latest sexual escapade and to ask me why I hadn't found a nice girl and joined in the fun.

"Clearly," he examined his nails, eyebrows raised.

"Look, what is it you're getting at?" I snapped.

"Well I was thinking, as you clearly haven't had any sex in quite some time, that you should get off your arse and try to have some with dear old Tonksie."

I gaped at him. "Are you joking?"

"Course not," he said. "Why would I joke about something like that? Why, don't you want to?"

"Yes but that's not really the point," I said. "There are other factors that come into this. For one, Tonks would have to be interested."

Sirius looked at me pityingly, "God, you really are thicker than a concussed troll aren't you? The girl is mad about you. She fancies you like nothing else!"

I shook my head, disbelieving. "She can't. Why would she?" I was trying very hard to fight off the happy feeling rising in my chest. He was probably taking the piss.

"Your problem is your self esteem is disgustingly low," said Sirius. "Let me tell you something—"

"Is it something I want to hear?"

"Not fussed, really. Listen. I have done many adventurous things." Yes, I thought. Threesomes and God only knows what else come to mind. "And they were fun. But I couldn't have done any of them without self esteem."

"Are you trying to make a point, Sirius?" I said.

"What I am trying to say," he stood and began to leaf through the records. "Is that you should go for it with Tonks. Take the plunge. Take a bloody risk for once."

There was a soft clunk and a hiss as he set a new record on the deck and it began to spin. Then "Sound of Silence" crackled out. It was too much.

"I'm going to find Molly. Keep her from having a nervous break down," I said, standing.

"Good idea. And think about what I said."

"Good night Sirius," I said firmly.

A/N: bleh. Sorry, I really don't like the ending. Please Review, please!


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: Thanks for the great reviews on the last chapter, they really made me happy. This is just a warning that updates might get less frequent from here on because I've got a lot more work at school than I thought I would. I do want to finish this story though, and I will. So, yeah. That would be my note. (Oh yes, and as always, please review some more) not that I want to sound needy or anything……

Chapter Eight

Tonks

"…..And I want you to alphabetize these files and then color-code them according to importance, alright? And then you can make copies of these notes and send them to Scrimgeor. Right. Carry on then."

I have often wished that I could shoot lasers out of my eyes. If I could I'd have been shooting them into the back of Cummings' head as he walked away. I am not a slave! I wanted to shout. I may be the youngest one here but I. Am. Not. Your. Bloody. Slave! Stupid Cummings. I was glad his name sounded vaguely dirty, and I hoped very much that he got a lot of shit for it at school. I really, really did.

"Nymphadora!" said Kingsley, looking scarily cheerful. "Excellent, just the person I wanted to see. Could you leave those files and come with me. There are some things I need your help with."

I gritted my teeth. I knew he had to pretend not to know me very well. I knew he had to make it look like I was doing menial labor for him as well, but why Nymphadora? Why? The problem with him was, he had a cruel sense of humor. There was just no way around it. Git. Big fat bald git.

"Now if you could just draw lines with this straight edge from each of the points where we have suspected Black might be hiding, in chronological order of course, that would be spectacular," he said, shoving a map into my hands, then adding in an undertone, "meeting tonight. It's a go with the werewolves."

"Bloody brilli," I said. "D'you really want me to do that map thing?"

"Course I do, Nymphy," he ruffled my hair. 'Nymphy' indeed. The work place was unjust! Unjust! I stalked away muttering about glass ceilings and longing for a drink.

"And it's raining. Of course it's raining!" I growled as I stepped out of the ministry three hours later and stalked down the street. Perfect. I hadn't brought an umbrella and my mascara wasn't waterproof. Also my jeans seemed to have decided it would be a lovely idea to transform into sponges. I could have apparated but really there wasn't much point. I'd only been outside five minutes and already I was soaked, more water wouldn't do me any harm. And, I had to admit, trudging through a hurricane during rush hour rather suited my mood of sullen rage.

By the time I reached Grimmauld Place I felt as if I'd swum the English Channel. I only wanted to get inside, dry off, and let Molly make me a big mug of hot chocolate. I'd completely forgotten about the meeting, so when I undid the locks and stepped inside it was a bit of a shock to see Meg, Tom, Sirius, and Remus standing in the hallway and staring at me as if I'd grown a second head.

"Wotcher all," I said, then noticed I was dripping all over the carpet. "Er, sorry about the water Sirius."

"That's……that's…….that's er, that's fine, Tonks," he looked rather taken aback, as did Tom. Remus looked as if someone had whacked him in the face with a skillet.

"What?" I said. "It's only water."

"Er, Tonks, sweetie. You do know your shirt is completely see through, right?" said Meg gently.

Why, oh why, was the world so cruel? Now I understood it. I looked like some strange, sluttish, Alice Cooper person. No wonder they were all gawping like idiots.

"No," I said in a voice of quiet dignity. "I did not. Does anyone have something I can cover it up with?"

"S'not really necessary you know," said Tom. Meg slapped him in the stomach.

"Why don't you give her your jumper, Remus," she said.

"Oh. Right," he said, peeling it over his head and handing it to me. I put it on thinking pig, pig, pig! I am an idiot. Who doesn't realize that white shirts become transparent when wet? Remus must have decided I was retarded, what with this and the tripping and the saying stupid things all the time. And now he felt sorry for me! It was unbearable.

"Why don't we go down to the kitchen," said Sirius, clapping his hands together in a business like and determined way, much like a football coach who's just realized none of his players have feet but is trying to make the best of it.

"Here," said Meg, pulling me back and wiping the mascara off my cheeks with a tissue from her bag. "Now you don't look like a member of Kiss."

"Thanks," I said.

"No problem," she said. "Hey, did you see Lupin's face when you walked in the door? God I thought he was going to faint!"

I felt myself go bright red, "Let's not talk about it anymore, okay?"

When we got to the kitchen we found it packed. Every member of the Order was there, including Dumbledore and Snape (who rarely came to meetings). I felt Meg go stiff beside me. In a flash Tom was next to her. The two of them seemed to be inflating themselves, drawing themselves in and up as if against some terrible force. I noticed for the first time that Tom had dressed to make himself look frightening as possible, and it had worked. His Mohawk was gelled all the way up, and it added about half a foot to his height. He was wearing his very tight black trousers again, and a faded black shirt with the sleeves ripped off and "Velvet Underground" printed across it in white letters and some crusty stains on the hem that looked suspiciously like blood. There were leather bracelets with spikes on round his wrists, but they weren't ornamental spikes, he'd sharpened them into deadly looking points. He had polished his huge boots till they shone and reflected the light from the fire in the grate. He had that honking great knife on him too, unsheathed this time. And, to top it all, he was wearing a huge, heavy looking chain round his waist. No one could mistake this baby for a belt either, it was too heavy, and like the knife and his boots, he'd polished it till it shone. The message was clear; Do Not Fuck With Me.

"There's—there's quite a lot of them, isn't there?" whispered Meg, looking apprehensive. She'd also dressed to intimidate, but in a different way. She was wearing a black lace dress whose coverage could generously be described as 'scant', she'd added four inch red heels and fishnet stockings, and she'd done her hair and make up to perfection. She seemed to be saying, 'I could bring every man here to his knees if I wanted to, top that!'

Problem was, they were so scared they hadn't yet noticed how well their message was coming across. Most of the men were sneaking sidelong glances at Meg. All the women in the room were looking at her as if they couldn't decide whether to hate her or mother her (excepting Molly, whose look of pity Meg had registered and was clearly offended by). Everyone except Dumbledore, Snape, and Remus looked nervous of Tom who was now holding himself like a wary dog, on the edge of attacking.

"Right all!" called Molly. "I thought we'd have some dinner before the meeting, now the kids are gone. So let's all sit down."

Everyone began jostling to find seats. The whole process was made complicated by the fact that a great many people (male people) wanted to sit next to Meg, but were too afraid to come near Tom who was hovering over her like a bodyguard. When the dust cleared I found myself between Meg and Remus. I felt sure I was going to die of embarrassment. I couldn't think of a thing to say to him that wasn't highly inappropriate. In light of this, I decided that silence was the best option.

"So," said Remus, nodding at Tom and Meg. "D'you think they got their point across?"

I nodded and repeated to myself don't blurt it out don't blurt it out don't—"So, you saw my tits then! Sorry about that!"

Oh God. There it was. I was now officially the most spastic woman alive.

He looked startled for a second, then a mischievous grin flitted across his face. "Don't apologize. It wasn't exactly an unpleasant experience."

I whacked him on the arm, but not hard, "You perveret! God, I feel dirty just wearing this jumper."

"Give it back then, I don't' mind."

"Can't. My shirt's still wet. Actually, I think I'm going to hold this jumper hostage. Hope it's your favorite." Really I already knew it was his favorite. It had more holes in it than the other ones, and the blue had faded almost to gray. You could feel him in it. Even if I hadn't seen him wear it a hundred times before I'd have known.

"No don't throw them away, I'll have them!" We turned in time to see Tom pouring an almost empty bottle of white wine into a half empty bottle of red wine and shaking it up. Molly, who was standing next to him with her arms still outstretched, her hands curled around the necks of phantom wine bottles, watched in horror as he took a long pull on the bottle and then offered it to Meg, who poured some into her empty water glass. "Anyone else want some?" asked Tom, offering the bottle around.

"Certainly," said Dumbledore, smiling pleasantly. Tom handed him the bottle and soon it was being shared around the table. Everyone seemed desperate to be polite.

"I can almost hear them thinking," murmured Remus, pouring me some wine. " 'Perhaps it is normal in werewolf culture to drink pink wine. Let's not offend anyone'"

I snorted, took a sip, and had to restrain myself to keep from spitting it out again. "That is fowl. What's he playing at?"

Remus glanced at him, "It's a game."

I chanced a look at Tom. From the look of it, Remus was right. There was a look of satisfied amusement on his face, and his movements were easier. Meg looked torn between a kind of vicarious triumph and embarrassment.

Tom's game didn't end with the wine. Within the first fifteen minutes he seemed to have figured out the entire dynamic of the group, and of course he exploited this mercilessly. First he had a long, very loud conversation with Dung about various criminal dealings, making sure Molly heard every word. When he'd exhausted this he turned to Snape and said, "So were you and Sirius mates at school?" He enhanced his butterbeer with rum from his hip flask, then asked if he could sample the contents of Moody's. Lastly, after everyone had finished, he pulled out his rolling papers and a plastic bag of some kind of leaf in it which he claimed was tobacco (but smelt as if he had mixed it with more potent things) and rolled up.

And the whole time no one said boo. The whole thing was so sick it was fantastic. Looking round at everyone else I could see none of them understood what was going on save Dumbledore, but he was too lofty to get involved. Remus and I kept glancing at each other and sniggering into our potatoes so that no one would notice.

What I didn't realize until I stood up to help Molly with the plates was just how drunk we all were. Meg and Tom were putting it away like they had hollow legs or something, at the most Tom was buzzed and Meg was tipsy (which made me wonder just how much Tom must've been drinking to be as soused as he was when I first met him). But the rest of us, well the rest of us were pissed out of our heads. Everyone had drunk too much, either out of nerves, or because we'd just been keeping pace with everyone else and not noticed how much we were drinking.

So I stood up to help Molly and immediately fell back into my seat. I tried taking a deep breath to get my equilibrium back but the fumes from Tom's "cigarette" just made it worse.

"I think," I said, leaning against Remus' shoulder to keep from toppling forward. "That I am smashed."

"I think it's mutual."

I started to giggle, "Can you be mutually smashed?"

"Oh I dunno," he grumbled. He took a sip of his drink and then started shaking with silent laughter.

I covered my face with my hands, "Oh this is baaaaad. This is supposed to be a serious occasion and," I leaned close to him to whisper 'everyone is piss drunk!' but somehow I didn't manage to say anything, because I kissed him instead, and he kissed me back.

When we broke apart we were both stone cold sober.

"Oh," I said. "Well." And then I stood up and started clearing the dishes and taking them to the sink, and I didn't fall over once.


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: Oy vey. If you're still reading this inspite of the long wait, I'm very grateful. Please tell me what you think (as always). : )

Chapter Nine

Tonks

The owl woke me up at two in the morning, just when I'd finally managed to fall asleep.

"Oh shit," I moaned, sitting up and taking the letter. "What now?"

The owl hooted softly and took off through the open window. I pressed the heel of my right hand against my forehead. Somewhere between kissing Remus and going to bed, the drunk had come back.

"I'm drunk," I said to my mirror.

"Clearly," it said back.

I shook my head, trying to clear it, and slit open the parchment. Who would mail me at two a.m.? And why? Why, why, why? Resoundingly, why!

Meeting. Urgent. Sturgis arrested.

"Oh," I said. "Well that explains it." but I was still drunk. And I'd kissed Remus. Oh God. Oh no. I'd kissed Remus and…..and now I was going to have to go back to Number Twelve and see him and it was going to be so awkward.

You should not be thinking about your stupid, sluttish, kissing people self, said my inner Auror (who is not very nice) you should be thinking about Sturgis, who has been arrested. You should be worrying about that. You should be wondering why. You should be going to that meeting NOW.

So I staggered out of bed, grabbed my wand, dragged on a pair of jeans, and apparated away.

It was only when I appeared on the sidewalk outside Grimmauld Place that I realized I'd forgotten shoes. Lovely.

Walking into Head Quarters was a strangely déjà vu experience; Meg and Tom were standing in the hall, looking completely bewildered Sirius was standing by his mother's portrait, and Remus was standing on the bottom step. Of all of them, only Sirius looked as if he hadn't woken from a very deep sleep. Meg was wearing what looked like one of Tom's old t-shirts and pajama bottoms, Tom was still in his black trousers, but he was minus his weapons and his shirt, and Remus was wearing the same clothes he'd eaten dinner (and kissed me) in, but his hair was sticking out in all directions and he looked as if he didn't quite know where or who he was.

"You've forgotten your shoes," said Tom.

"You've forgotten your shirt," I said.

"What is this?" said Remus, clutching the banister, apparently to keep from toppling over and falling asleep on the hallway floor.

"Have some coffee," said Sirius, conjuring a cup out of the air and handing it to Remus, who gulped it down gratefully and immediately refilled it.

"Thanks," he said, looking around the hallway. I had the impression he'd just realized there were other people around him. "Hello Tonks," he said to the wall above my head.

"Wotcher," I said, turning bright red.

There was a long moment when Sirius looked from Remus to me, me to Remus, and then started chuckling quietly and muttering what sounded like "concussed troll".

"Well!" said Tom, a little loudly. "Shall we!"

"Yes. We shall," I set off for the kitchen, wishing very much that I'd thought up a plan for how to handle this.

At the kitchen table I took the seat furthest from Remus, deciding that if I wasn't near him, I wouldn't think about him. I needed to devote my complete and total attention to the matter at hand. It is a very serious matter, I told my self, a very serious matter indeed. Indeed, indeed. Very serious. But it was hard to take things seriously when everyone in the Order (except, of course, Dumbledore) looked befuddled and sleepy.

We talked for hours. It seemed someone had Imperiused Sturgis and tired to force him to open the door to the Department of Mysteries. Now he was in Azkakaban ("So all in all, things are going pretty well!" quipped Dung, drawing death glares from the others).

At six o'clock in the morning the meeting finally ended and everyone dragged themselves home or to work, looking bleached out. Meg, who'd had less coffee than everyone else, was nodding off against Tom's shoulder. He didn't even bother to wake her before they left, just scooped her up and carried her away. I watched them go enviously, thinking how nice it would be if only I could fall asleep too, and knowing that I wouldn't be able to because I had to go to work in five minutes.

"But I don't have any shoes!" I moaned, dropping my head into my hands. It all felt like too much, all of a sudden. I felt very small and very young, and I was certain that nothing I could do would matter, because the thing we were fighting was so strong and we didn't have anyone to help us. If I couldn't even keep track of my stupid shoes how was I going to help save the world? Every one of us was going to die, I knew that. Remus and Sirius and Molly and Arthur and Meg and Tom and Kingsley and all of them, they were all going to die. I knew what happened to the old Order. Moody'd told me all the stories. And I knew I couldn't stand it, I couldn't stand to watch them die. Before I knew it I was crying. Oh, I felt like an idiot. What kind of Auror cries? It was so silly! But I couldn't stop, I just couldn't stop. Thank God everyone else has gone home, I thought, just as Remus put his arm around my shoulders.

"Oh fuck," I said, and then I really broke down.

I can't even remember what he said to me. I don't know, maybe he didn't really say anything. Maybe he just sat there and let me cry for what felt like forever.

When I'd finally pulled myself together I said, "There's snot all over you."

"So there is," he said, and vanished it.

"I'm really sorry," I looked at the cold fireplace so he wouldn't see how red I had turned. "For falling apart."

"You're not the only one," he said. "We're all scared stiff."

"I bet you haven't gone to pieces."

"Not yet," he admitted. "But I've fallen apart enough before."

I snorted. "Sure you have." It was hard to imagine calm, collected Remus ever going to pieces.

We sat in silence for a moment, then he said "Look, I'm really sorry about earlier. I'm sorry I kissed you. It was completely inappropriate and—"

"I kissed you," I said, looking at him for the first time. He was staring down at his hands, which were lying flat on the table.

"You what?" he looked up at me, startled.

"I said I kissed you. I started it."

He frowned, "But….."

Suddenly I started go giggle. Oh, it was so stupidly funny! "I guess," I had to pause for another fit of giggling. "I guess it was m-mutual!"

His face was very still for a moment, but then the corners of his mouth started to twitch upward and he started chuckling too. "We always end up laughing," I said. "Why do we always end up laughing?"

And then he really did start it. There was no confusion this time, he just leaned forward and kissed me. My heart was going very, very fast, and I knew he could feel it because his fingers were resting lightly against my neck, just at the pulse point. I put my hand against the left side of his chest and I could feel his heart too, racing like it wanted to escape. Once I did that the kiss got more intense, and suddenly my arms went round his neck and I was pressed up against him and both our hearts were pounding against the right side of the other's chest, same rhythm, same time. It was crazy, like something from a story. Something I'd never have thought could be real.

And then we broke apart.

"Hi," he said.

"Hi," I said.

And I guess that was that.


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: once again, I apologize for the wait. There'll probably be another delay between this chapter and the next one. Thank you so much to everyone who's kept reading and I hope you like it.

Chapter 10

Tonks

It was one of those evenings when the sun seems to melt out of the sky. I was crouched by the window in Sirius' room, leafing through one of Remus' books. He had so many strange books. Wizarding books on everything you could guess at. Muggle books, too. I'd never read any muggle books but I'd always wanted to. I was reading 'The Crucible' that evening. I'd started it a few days ago, early in the morning. I wake up early but Remus is at the bottom of a well in the mornings.

"How is it?" asked Sirius. He was fiddling with a piece of parchment: charming it so it folded itself into a frog, a swan, a mouse, a lantern.

I wanted to say 'It's good' but I couldn't get it out. "It's…..a bit scary, actually." I said instead. "Too appropriate."

"What's it about?"

"The Salem Witch trials. Well Remus said it was about…..some American bloke or other making trouble in the fifties, but on the surface it's about Salem."

"Well they were all a load of bollox, weren't they?" said Sirius. "Tried to burn witches and they froze the flames. It's nothing to worry about."

"You're mixing up Europe and America. There were no witches or wizards in Salem. They hung muggles for witchcraft." I turned the book over in my hands. "I dunno. I suppose it reminds me of how the ministry's going lately. Everyone out spying for Umbridge."

I stretched my back and glanced at the clock. I felt as if I'd looked at it a thousand times that evening.

"Worried about him?" asked Sirius.

"No. I mean…..well yes. No. I don't know." I shook my head violently. "I—"

"I understand," said Sirius quietly. "But he's done it enough before."

"He's been looking so ragged this week," I said. "And I haven't seen him all day. He was feeling horrible yesterday. I could tell, but he wouldn't admit it."

"No," murmured Sirius. "No he wouldn't. Bloody idiot."

I stood, the book thudded to the floor. "I'm going to see him." I strode into the hall and made for Remus' room. Just before I reached the door all the courage went out of me. Part of me was afraid to see him so low. I took a deep breath, thinking, none of this Tonks. You've been trained to deal with worse, and opened the door.

The light was dimmer in here. He'd closed the curtains, but they were thin and the sun still filtered in, bathing the whole room in dusty pink. The radio was playing an old classic song from before I was born. Remus was curled on the bed. I felt slightly weak looking at him. He looked like one of those junkies you see huddled in the mouth of the tube station, all shaking and pale and sweaty because they've gone too long without a fix. Even more frightening: he wasn't all there. I could see that plainly. He was outside himself; he was closer to the music.

"Hey," he said, opening one eye.

"Hey," I said, coming to sit by him.

He brushed the back of my hand with his fingertips, "Had a good day?"

I shrugged, "Can I stay for a bit?"

"Till the sun sets."

I curled up beside him, tucking my head under his chin, resting my forehead against his chest. He put his arm around my waist, let his fingers play across the small of my back. I don't know how long we lay there, in that strange place between waking and sleeping, till we finally drifted off.

I woke up two hours later because of the pain in my upper arm. Remus was half sitting up, his face dead white, his teeth gritted. One arm was curled around his stomach, as if someone had punched him there, the other was clutching my arm hard.

"Get out," he gasped.

"No!" I sat up and grabbed his knee. "No! I'll stay here! I'll—"

"Get. Out." He pushed me away and I over balanced and tumbled off the bed. Remus retched. "Please," he managed. "Please."

I hesitated a moment. Remus cried out as if someone had snapped one of his bones. I couldn't bear it. I scrambled out of the room, pulled the door closed behind me, then sank down against it. I could feel a sob rising in my throat. I rested my head against my knees, squeezing my eyes shut, trying to calm down. The floor boards shook slightly under me, the way they do in old houses when someone is running toward you. It was Sirius. He pointed his wand at Remus' door and murmured an incantation. It glowed red for a moment and then the noise from inside stopped.

"What did you do?" I yelped.

"Sealed it," he said shortly.

"But there's no noise. What's happened to him?"

"Nothing's happened. I soundproofed it."

I glared at him.

"Don't look at me like that, Tonks. It was his idea."

The sob that I'd been fighting finally escaped. I tried to hide it and it turned into a weird, hiccup sort of sound.

"C'mon," said Sirus, trying to help me up. "Let's go downstairs."

I shook my head, "No. I want to stay here."

"You can't help him Tonks."

"I know that. I'm staying anyway."

Sirius gave me a long look then, as if he were trying to confirm something. He sank down in front of me and said, "Be careful."

"I won't go in," I said wearily.

"No. I meant be careful about falling in love with him." He left before I could stay a word.

I woke up the next morning feeling as if I were about to come apart at the joints. I stood stiffly and tried the door. It opened. There must have been a time limit on the charm.

Inside the room was a wreck. Furniture was upended, leaves of paper lay across the room, the curtains were almost completely shredded. I found Remus curled in a corner. I thought for a horrible, heart stopping moment, that he was dead.

I knelt next to him. There was a horrible cut down his left arm that was too deep for me to heal fully. I did the best I could with it and then conjured some bandages, in case it came open again. Moving him seemed like a bad idea, so I took a pillow and the blanket from his bed and covered him up. Before I left I brushed his hair out of his eyes.

Be careful, Sirius had said. I couldn't quite understand why.


End file.
